Enough for Now
by Genji
Summary: A Duo POV fic filled with unrequieted love and angst. Slight Heero bastardization (sorry...I luv the dude, but it had to happen), LIME


Title: Enough for Now  
Author: Genji  
Pairing: 2 + 1, 1 x 2  
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. The song, the characters, the places.  
  
Song Disclaimer: First and foremost, "Hanging by a Moment" by Lifehouse is one killer song...and I totally did it no justice...they'd probably be rolling over in their graves or suing me right and left for breaking it apart and not doing the last verse...it's more filled with hope than despair and angst, so my apologies go to them.   
  
Warnings: Lime, Angst, slight Heero-bastardization, rambling, confusion, no happy ending, OOC?  
  
Notes: Echo and I were talking and I said something about 1 x 2, and she said she could only see the way it would work out if Heero did it for the sex. We had a long conversation about it (well as long as my mind can stay in one place for, then we were off talking on another topic...I think it involved something pink...can't remember). Anyhoo, this one is for her...I think I didn't do Duo correctly, but he's in love with the dude, he' s willing to stick it out for a little longer and then a little longer and a little longer turns into even longer...so...well, you can do the math.   
  
{lyrics}  
Duo's POV  
============================================================================  
  
{desperate for changing}  
  
Yeah, we haven't gotten very far--homophobe wise--despite all the advances we may have made in the other fields: medicine, weapons, technology. Deep down we're the same savages that crawled about the planet eons ago: scared of people who are different--scared of people like us. They use derogative words when they refer to people like us: fag, gay, homo, pervert... the list goes on and on, and we just nod and go along with it, hoping they don't find out our dirty secret--our skeletons in the closet.  
  
But at the end of the day we go home unchanged. Maybe feel a little crappier about what we are, but there's nothing that can be done, despite what those crackpot psychiatrists and TV evangelists say. Nothing.   
  
Some people are born connected at the hip, others with one arm.   
  
I, myself, am a homosexual.   
  
{starving for truth}  
  
So, that puts you on an even-keel of where I'm coming from. Of course, not everyone is born the same...and that's where the trouble starts--when you fall for someone who isn't gay, who doesn't love you back.  
  
It happens in the heterosexual world as well, but it's not the same--a guy and a girl can learn to love each other, given enough alcohol and incentive. With a guy, even in his most drunken state, won't bed down with another guy no matter what the stakes are. Not for a million dollars with compounded interest at 20% over a million years.   
  
Yeah, I'm just lucky enough to be one of those people who strive for the unattainable.  
  
Then again, I could be wrong--I could have you totally figured out incorrectly. God knows how much I wish that were true, but if you look at my past you know that the big Dude up there has this habit of screwing with my sanity so I don't even know which is up and which is down.  
  
More precisely: who is 'gay' and who is 'straight.'   
  
{I'm closer to where I started}  
  
Yeah, I've been chasing my tail on this one, going round and round in huge-ass circles, trying to know when to make my move and keep my dignity in the same breath.   
  
But you don't go up to someone of the same sex and say, "Hey gorgeous, how about a quick go at it in the ol' sack?"  
  
First of all, that's just downright degrading if you don't know whether or not you're going to end up flung against the wall with a split lip. Second, I don't want it to be quick.  
  
Yeah, so much for one night stands.   
  
{I'm chasing after you}  
  
Of course, like I've said before, I've got this curse on my shoulders that always puts what I want just out of reach. Must be some sort of weird torture device.   
  
And it works...it really does.  
  
Gets you down on yourself as you're forever chasing something that you know you can never ever have. Forget it, not in your size, not your color, not in stock.   
  
Hahahaha.  
  
Then you turn and look at me just for a split second longer than would be normal--for you. I grin, flip my braid and then try and ignore you.  
  
Fat chance. Ya see, that would defeat God's wonderful little scheme, something's always gonna remind me...something that really isn't talked about out in the open--specially not with guys.  
  
Yeah, as a rule we have three main topics: chicks, cars and getting laid. These create breathtaking, inspiring and deep conversations. Any disagreements are taken care of then and there by use of these wonderful weapons that our sadistic God has given us--fists.   
  
He really thinks of everything...every little damn thing.  
  
{I'm falling even more in love with you}  
  
They say absence breeds fondness...a fat lot they know, whoever the hell 'they' are. I'd be happy just to be near you everyday--and nights, if possible. But a look into your eyes, deep, dark blue ones, tells me that ain't gonna happen for a long, long, long time.   
  
Hell, I betcha you'll be a virgin for the rest of your natural life.  
  
But I'm not interested in the sex--that's just one of the perks. One of the many, many perks.   
  
I want to know you.   
  
You really can't know anyone in this tense atmosphere, waiting for the next orders to come through, waiting for the body count to grow even higher.   
  
Plus, you're so damned veiled--like you live in this sealed off world and this universe and yours only cross on the physical plane. I'll never be able to clear the haze, and any effort I'd be crazy enough to make would end up with me beaten up.  
  
But I don't blame you, that's what most guys would do if you made a move on them. As a rule we don't think with our heads--well, the one on our shoulders.  
  
{letting go of all I've held onto  
I'm standing here until you make me move  
I'm hanging by a moment here with you}  
  
Then again, the second head usually wins out and that leads me to a cold shower before I do anything stupid, such as molest you in the middle of the night. You don't wanna know how many times I've wanted to jump you just to see how far I could go before you killed me.   
  
Then I catch you staring at me for longer than the usual annoyed split second. You don't have your trademark death glare on--the usual expression that flits across your blank face when you deal with me.  
  
Hey, at least I can get a reaction.   
  
So, why am I standing here, grinning stupidly, tossing you an unopened cola and not moving off on my own trajectory into oblivion?   
  
Taking a risk... wonder where this act of stupidity will get me.  
  
{forgetting all I'm lacking  
completely incomplete}  
  
You look up at me, nothing showing in those soulless eyes. The soda in your hands remains closed--untouched. I make some flippant remark, something about waiting forever for the end.  
  
Oh, the double meanings!  
  
I'm not sure if you get it as I walk away, but I think this round was a tie. I didn't get beaten up--well, you didn't try to beat me up. If you attempt to take me on I'll wreak my own havoc, an' it wouldn't be the good kind. Point for me.  
  
You didn't do anything... Point for you.  
  
Chalk it up to a cat's game and let's go on our separate ways.  
  
Oh, and while you're going, why don't you rip my heart out as well? Never needed the foolish thing to begin with. Maybe in another time, another place, but certainly not on Peacemillion in AC 195. I don't have any use for such a stupid thing.   
  
God wins this round.  
  
{I'll take your invitation  
you take all of me now}  
  
Yeah, one of His little arrangements is that we always seem to share a room, so I can look, but not touch. You're getting ready for bed, providing more material for my dreams. I roll over and pretend I'm asleep.  
  
But you know otherwise, and with a swift motion I'm on my back looking up into those cool eyes of yours.   
  
I ask you what the fuck is going on, and you simply put a finger to your lips--sweet lips that should be plundered on sight. I search your face--a fat lot of good that does, Mr. Indifference--for a clue of what is going on. Nothing.  
  
Then all of a sudden you're on me, kissing me, working my clothes off. Your hands are everywhere, stimulating nerves I never knew I had. My clothes lie forgotten on the floor, but you're still heavily overdressed--you hardly seem to notice as you bend to tease my left nipple, sending fire dancing through the axons and synapses throughout my body.   
  
I move--though every inch of me protests anything that might wake me from this welcomed fantasy--to help you rid yourself of your clothes, but you stop me and move away, leaving me in the nude on my bed. I watch you strip with your habitual efficiency. Then you're back, distributing as much pain as pleasure as you alternate between nips and licks.  
  
I try to reciprocate--try to put us on an equal playing field--but you stop me with a single, meaningful look. This is not about me. But I put that idea out of my head as you pleasure me with your left so I don't comprehend what you're doing with you're right.   
  
I'm dancing on the razor's edge, splitting my feet on the sharp, hard line, but I don't mind as every other part of my body is immersed in an indescribable bliss of fulfillment--a feeling I have never known, until now, as you slowly sink your entire self into me.  
  
It hurts. I don't deny that. Without any type of lube I know I'm going to end up unable to walk tomorrow and lose bunches of blood. Neither of us was prepared--no one carries KY with them unless they're planning to use it. I certainly wasn't, you were just an unattainable dream to haunt my fantasies and goad me everyday. You weren't, as you've probably never thought that this is how you'd end up--pounding into me with excruciating force. But I will forgive you...just to have you is enough.   
  
Just to be had is enough.  
  
I climax screaming your name, letting the white fluid ejaculate from my body in one immense, mind-blowing explosion. It leaves me with the consistency of Jell-O, wiggly and unstable. I feel you climax seconds after I clamp my muscles around your shaft, understandably creating an immeasurable amount of friction. It's warm and wet...and totally you. I wait for my name to echo in the moment I feel your seed--but I could wait forever and it would never come.  
  
You collapse beside me, drained from your exertion. I smile, ignoring the blood trickling from between my legs, ignoring the pain that radiates from the spot that had once brought me so much pleasure.   
  
Just being had is enough.  
  
{I'm falling even more in love with you}  
  
You, all business once more, pick me up, drag me to the showers--this is a spaceship, we can't have baths or our own separate ones. We're already stripped, so we skip that part.   
  
The tiled room is empty except for us, which makes a lot of sense it's 3 o'clock in the morning. No one in their right mind would be up this late--but I never claimed to be in any sort of sane state. I don't think you could say otherwise either.   
  
Just two crazy lovers.   
  
You turn on the water, watching the spray, waiting for the temperature to turn between scalding and lagoon tepid. I cling to you, more to assure myself that this is you that is holding me, rather than some sort of product of a delusional intellect. But I wouldn't mind if this was just a dream...just want to hang around until the end when you say that you love me.  
  
You love me, 'cause I love you.  
  
{letting go of all I've held onto  
I'm standing here until you make me move  
I'm hanging by a moment here with you}  
  
You push me into the cascade of water, leaving me with nothing to stabilize myself with. You indicate for me to hold onto the side and spread my legs, like a cop makes a suspect do as he searches him for weapons or drugs or whatever. I grin, thinking we're gonna go at it again. Role-playing, ya know? But nothing kinky comes outta that scene, for you simply squat down and start washing off all the blood encrusted on my skin--aren't gentle about it, but I can take it. I'm a gundam pilot aren't I? Pain is no sweat.  
  
The clear liquid trickles down my back, in tiny rivulets, no doubt some of the stuff drips down onto your head and into your hair as you finish up. You stand up, and I ready myself for you to enter me. I'm ready and waiting--but nothing happens. You leave me hanging in the suspense, unsure if I should move or remain braced against the side for your onslaught.   
  
I'm waiting for you.  
  
You gather me up into your arms--your wet skin against mine. I'm sure if you took me here and now it wouldn't hurt. Obviously that's not on your mind as we return to our room. You put me into your bed, but don't hunker down beside me. Why? I don't have time to ponder that as I slip off into a sated sleep.  
  
I'm waiting for you.  
  
{I'm living for the only thing I know}  
  
I wake up in my own bed, fresh sheets--that's the only difference from last night. Hell, I'd think it was just a dream if it weren't for that throbbing in my ass, like someone thrust a red-hot poker up it just to see how far it could go.   
  
Pretty damn far if you ask me.   
  
I swing my legs over the bed and try my weight on them experimentally. I can walk, just going to have one hell of a time explaining why it looks like I just got off my horse for the first time in five years--but I don't think anyone will. They're all too caught up in the preparations of the final battle.   
  
I waddle--I can't describe it any other way--down the hall, pass you on my way to breakfast. You don't even raise an eyebrow or offer a helping hand or smirk, knowing that it was you who made me like this. No reaction.  
  
Yuy: 2, Maxwell: 1.  
  
I mean, deep down I know you love me. You've gotta, don'tcha?  
  
Ah well, I can survive until you admit it to yourself--cause that emotion goes against everything you were taught.   
  
I could be undoing all your training. Cool.  
  
I'll be sure to tell ya how I feel...you'll respond in like. Can't wait to see those walls come crumbling down. And it's right by the end of the war--this was meant to be.   
  
I love you, Heero. I love you.  
  
{I'm running and not sure where to go}  
  
It's the end of the day and I'm not sure which bed to slip into. Would yours be too presumptuous or would it bring about another night that I so dearly want?   
  
But a look from you tells me you aren't coming to bed. There are preparations to be taken care of--stuff you don't trust Howard or anyone to take care of.  
  
So I slip under my own covers, consoling myself that tomorrow night...tomorrow night I will be had.  
  
I dream--yeah, I'm cursed with remembering the good and the bad. I'm running. I can hear my footfalls on the earth, the leaves rustle and crinkle but I can't see them. I can't see my hand in front of me. Something's chasing me and I'm tired, but I must keep going. Why? Dreams don't need logic.   
  
Running for eternity, but it doesn't feel like I'm going anywhere, like every step forward brings me two steps backwards, taking me closer to my unknown foe. The horizon is starting to lighten--turn pastel pink and muted red. It gives me a direction and the promise of warmth, and I veer towards it, but never get any nearer than I was before. I'm hit from behind, bowled over and flat on my face. One word from my assailant: Baka.  
  
Of course, I never get to finish my dream--one of the wonderful, wonderful things of being in a constant state of preparedness. There are footsteps running down the hall, jarring me from my sleep, leaving me unsure of what this manifestation of my unconsciousness means.   
  
But it's just a dream, right?  
  
{and I don't know what I'm diving into}  
  
Quatre's asking me questions about you--if you love me or not. I grin, but insist that I don't screw and tell. He laughs, never mentioning my stiff walk. Then he's off giving me suggestions on how to make it more pleasurable with less pain, as well as the different positions. Even gives me the name of a book to read--the Karma Sutra I think it is, or something like that.  
  
He finishes up quickly, seeing that I've sorta zoned out, saying that he's glad that you and I hooked up. He always knew that you did have some sort of feelings dwelling beneath your glacier-like exterior.   
  
I grin, nodding in agreement. There are feelings underneath the surface, right?  
  
You're like a muddy swimming hole, I can only see in so far, and I don't know if there's a rusty nail at the bottom waiting to give me tetanus. I'll take my chances with the nail so that I can cool off. I'll dive right in, hope for the best.  
  
There's something beneath that rigid exterior, right?  
  
{just hanging by a moment here with you}  
  
But I think, as I wait for the next mission to come through, for the final battle to commence, that you wouldn't do anything you didn't mean. You follow your feelings. So I'll relive the moment and wait for the next time. The possibilities are orgasmic just thinking about them. But I can wait and so I'll content myself until then.  
  
Just being had by you is enough.  
  
{there's nothing else to lose  
there's nothing else to find  
there's nothing in the world  
that could change my mind  
there is nothing else...}  
  
two days later  
  
I'm screaming your name, waiting for you to scream mine, but I'm greeted with the accustomed silence. I can deal; you just aren't ready to take that final leap of faith. So closed down, Heero. Tut tut tut.  
  
We'll have time enough to work this out later. I know you've got some feelings down there, just too scared to show them.   
  
Heero and scared--never thought I'd use those two words in the same sentence before. But then again this isn't before, is it? If this is some sort of wonderful, fever inflicted fantasy, don't wake me.   
  
I kiss you as you fall down beside me, your bangs clinging to your forehead. You roll over, turn your back towards me, and fall asleep.  
  
I whisper my dreams in three short words, waiting for a response, but none comes.  
  
I love you.   
  
Do you love me? I'll get my answer one of these days.  
  
I love you, Heero. Nothing can ever take that away from me.  
  
{desperate for changing}  
  
a week later  
  
For the umpteenth time this past week I'm met with silence as I feel your warm seed inside of me, filling the emptiness inside of me--both literally and figuratively.   
  
One scream in the dark and then silence.  
  
Silence. I hate it! I hate it! I hate it! It's filled with things left unsaid, things that can never be, but taunt me with the possibility that they might, in some peculiar way. The unspoken can still happen, but once it's whispered its validity is held up to the light, analyzed and categorized as truth or falsehood. I can still believe the things unsaid in the silence after a shout.  
  
I can still believe, but I want to hear something instead.  
  
I want to hear my name.  
  
{starving for truth}  
  
Do you love me? Do YOU love?   
  
I've used all my excuses and I don't know anymore as I watch your back in the moonlight. I want to hear it from your own lips.  
  
I want validation for all of this.  
  
Then I remember the time before the fateful night.  
  
Just being had is enough.   
  
Yeah, that's right. Just being had by you is enough.  
  
That's truth enough for now.  
  
{I'm closer to where I started}  
  
Frankly, I don't know how you feel now any more than I did before. Clueless. You haven't said anything to me in the night--not one word. Just a look and it all begins again. The pleasure mixed with pain...  
  
It doesn't hurt as much physically anymore. Physically it's a dream come true--two bodies playing on the other's strengths and exploiting the weaknesses. It's like our own miniature battlefield right here on the bed, and you're always the victor.  
  
But it's enough for now.  
  
It's enough for now.  
  
I love you.  
  
{I'm chasing after you}  
  
I'm chasing after your heart, your feelings. I have yet to strip you of your armor, your defenses are always up--always there to deter the intrepid warrior.   
  
I tail you, trying to catch you unawares. Like an unwanted stray, I lurk in your shadow, waiting for the times when I can come out to please my master. This will have to stop--but I can wait. Wait for things to settle down.  
  
Everyday you go about your business, content in your two separate lives. But I've only got one; it's just a change of scene, change of place. There's only one Duo Maxwell--only one. I'm not happy with my lot, but I tell myself that you'll come 'round and then everything will be ok.   
  
Take my body, and one of these days I'll get through to you. Then I won't have to chase you; I won't have to wonder anymore. It won't just be the sex that'll keep you true--it'll be me.   
  
I love you, Heero.   
  
And that's good enough for now.  
  
~owari~  
  
So, what's next? A *gasp* happy ending? *laughs* maybe one of these days...one of these days....  
  



End file.
